Larger Than Life by Alison Kent (bill gates books recommendations .TXT) 📗

me his name then? Because I'm pretty sure my life-threatening injuries were just treated by a vet. And he didn't say a word about chocolate."

Neva laughed, the sound so light and airy he could almost feel the shift in the swing as a great weight lifted from her shoulders. He'd come here to see her smile, to say thank you with the chocolate, to pick up his dog and his gun, to go. He'd done all of that; he should be ready to leave.

But what he had witnessed earlier with the sheriff and the man wearing gray wool Armani had his nape tingling, coming as it had on top of Ed Hill's admonition to stay away because Neva had enough trouble in her life. Then there was her ability to see through Mick's protective cloak. And now the sighting of the man he was sure was Ezra Moore.

Maybe it was no more than paying forward the second chance he'd received from Hank Smithson, but Mick wanted to stick around. Another day at least. To make sure what happened earlier in front of the barn was the end of the story. That tomorrow wouldn't bring a return spate of accusations from which she'd need a defense. After all, the woman had very likely saved his bloody life.

"Ed's not just a vet," he heard her say. "He's also the town's general practitioner."

"Hmm," Mick murmured. "Must just be us horse types he treats in the big room, then. Size being what matters and all."

Neva laughed out loud. "Shut up and open your mouth."

Shut and up and ... "What?"

"You heard me. Not another word. Just open your mouth."

He waited until she'd pinched off a bite of fudge from the single-serving chunk. And then, realizing she was giving him the very first bite, he did as she'd ordered. He let the chocolate melt on his tongue, ignoring the wide begging eyes above the snout that suddenly appeared in his lap, and wondered if it was the sugar or the company making the f.indy so sweet.

"Good stuff, huh," she said, and he nodded, his hand coming up to circle her wrist when she offered him more.

He hadn't intended to seduce her any more than to threaten her. It was simply a case of making sure the candy made it to where it was intended to go. But Neva froze, and the wrist in the ring of his fingers trembled. And the porch light was plenty by which to see he needed to release her.

Her eyes. . . The pain, the fear, the panic. He freed her and lowered his hand to his lap, giving her no reason to think he would hurt her, or that he meant anything at all by the touch.

She ended up returning the candy to the box, settling the lid back in place, licking away a chocolate smear from her thumb. The ribbon she wound like a tourniquet around two of her fingers, and he couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were circulating that she wanted to cut off.

He didn't ask, he just shifted forward on the seat, grimacing as he prepared to stand. "You know, it's late, and I've got to get going or I'll never find a place to stay."

She frowned, asked, "What about the dog?"

Mick winked. "He's not the one driving on a black-and-blue bum."

She smiled just enough to let him know the physical con-tact hadn't left her damaged. "No, I meant you're going to have trouble finding a motel that will take him in without driving half the night."

"I wasn't going to look for a motel." He pushed to his feet, groaned. "I just need a campground. We'll bunk in the Rover." He'd certainly bunked in worse places, he mused, letting FM nuzzle his hand looking for chocolate.

When he glanced down, Neva was shaking her head. "You can't. Not in your condition." She waved a hand. "You can't even get out of the swing without grimacing. There's no way you can climb in and out of the back of an SUV. You can stay here. With me. It's the only thing that makes sense."

But Mick was already cutting her off and walking toward the steps. It looked good for his cause not to agree too quickly. "I don't think that's such a great idea."

"Look, I'm sorry about what just happened." She stood and followed, stopping when he turned. "It's a reflexive thing. It's me, not you."

"Uh-huh." His curiosity, the bane of his existence, could not have been ramped more high. "That's what women always say when it's really the guy."

"Mick, please. I swear it's not." The look she gave him was an apology. "You aren't in any shape to be driving."

He couldn't argue with that.

"And I didn't go to all that trouble pulling you out of one ditch to have you end up in another. Not when I have a perfectly good guest room at the back of the house now that Liberty isn't using it."

He pretended to ponder the matter, then nodded his acceptance of her offer. "Okay, I'll stay. As long as you tell me where you sleep."

She pushed her hair back from her face. He could see her nervous frown. "Upstairs, why?"

He held tightly to the railing on the porch because he wanted more than anything to touch her, to soothe her, to ease the frown away. "I just want to make sure I don't trespass into hostile territory again."

"Good idea, mate." She backed away, opened the front door, gestured him inside. "Considering I still have your gun."

Seven

"Oh no you don't," Jeanne said as her son slammed the back door and made like a tornado from the mudroom through the freshly mopped kitchen. She knew without asking that he and Yancey had butted their two hard heads out at the Barn. "Spencer Walter Munroe, you get back here right now. Whatever happened with you and your father, you are not leaving me in the dark about this."

"There is no this, Mom."